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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577069">forget all the shooting stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/renjaune/pseuds/renjaune'>renjaune</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Childhood Friends, Growing Up Together, Jisung-centric, M/M, Time Skips, jisung waxes poetry about renjun, stars as a metaphor for rensung</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:55:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/renjaune/pseuds/renjaune</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The glow in the dark stars on Jisung's ceiling is how it all started, but almost ten years later the train is coming closer and makes the ground shake beneath his feet. </p><p>He is still here, he's glad he is. And he remembers, he remembers it all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Huang Ren Jun/Park Jisung</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>forget all the shooting stars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/laehys/gifts">laehys</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>when i was 10 i sat on my window frame and saw the train go by too, i remembered about it this week and had to do something with it</p><p>thanks <a href="https://twitter.com/speIIbond">amanda</a> for betaing this, you're an angel</p><p><a href="https://twitter.com/pinkhrj">lua</a>, this fic is yours, i guess all our before bed talks worked out, i'm glad we got to do it</p><p>ofc, it has a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXq1JDKudgM&amp;ab_channel=TroyeSivanVEVO">troye's</a> title because im gay, wbk</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s late, it’s so late, and the cold air from September’s weather caresses Jisung’s face like it did way too many years ago. He’s here, he’s still here after what feels like forever, after calls and fights and love and despair, he is still here; he’s so glad he’s still here, black hoodie over his head and cold air freezing his expression. </p><p>He remembers, he remembers it all — how it started and how it went away, how good it felt and how broken it left him. All, he remembers it all. </p><p> </p><p>It’s 2012 and Jisung is ten. His new room is painted blue, but not sky blue, that’d be way too childish for him; it’s deep ocean blue, wild and threatening and he’s definitely old enough for it not to frighten him. The walls are blue and so are his insides. He lies on his bed every night and he thinks, he thinks about what's about to come, he thinks about his mates at school, about how he will have to tell them how he’s feeling, about how he will have to tell <em> him </em> how he feels. </p><p>And Jisung looks at the ceiling, and he sees the little stars he begged his mom to stick again after she painted it, the little stars he got because he loves the sky, because it reminds him of his friend. His friend, Jisung repeats inside his head. <em> Friend. </em>That’s what they are, after all. </p><p>Jisung stole a book from his friend before sticking the stars on the ceiling for the first time. He stole it and read almost all of it in one night, he read it in one night and he drew a map of a few constellations and he stuck the little stars his mom bought him the same way they appeared in the book. <em> Their </em>constellations. </p><p>And now he’s looking at them, at how close they are to each other, and he doesn’t know if those constellations are as close in real life, in the real sky, miles and miles above his head, but he wishes they are. He never got to that part of the book before his friend took it away. </p><p>The thing is Jisung is ten, and he’s old enough, he really is. He goes to school by himself every morning, he goes to practice and he studies and reads and sometimes even feeds his little sister. He <em> is </em>old enough. </p><p>The window above his head is still open. It’s not as cold as other years this time around, so Jisung opens it after his mom leaves so she won’t notice. Maybe tonight those constellations can be seen... probably not, but it’s never a bad choice to check. Jisung sits and gets over the covers of his bed. He’s all grown up but his covers are still filled with small cars, he should ask his mom for new ones. </p><p>Sitting there is relaxing. There's a small balcony outside the window, so Jisung isn’t scared of falling when he sits on the window frame and lets his still-small legs hang over the edge. He sits there and breathes in once. He carefully fills his lungs with the cold air for the first time as he closes his eyes, trying to let his other senses take control. </p><p>The window frame is cold under his touch, the air smells like winter already, even when it’s only September, and he can clearly hear the train coming closer. He always liked that the train had its hours and can never be stopped. The train didn’t care what was happening around it, it didn’t care if Jisung was having a good day or not; it went by every night, always, even on the weekends. </p><p>That night, sitting there as the train makes the ground beneath him vibrate, he decides on talking. He decides on going to his <em> friend </em>the next day and telling him everything. </p><p> </p><p>But he doesn’t. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
It’s 2013 and Jisung is eleven, and he has been sitting on that window almost every night since that first time, and the cold air still makes him shiver under his red hoodie, because he likes red now and not blue. His walls are still blue, though -- his mom didn’t agree on repainting them and he didn’t bother that much on fighting her. New covers did the trick and now his room looks better. The stars are still on his ceiling; he made sure to stick them back every time one of them fell off. It’s his little sky after all, the one where those constellations are close to each other. </p><p>Jisung got the book again a few months ago, he asked for it this time and his friend lent it to him. Jisung wished he didn’t read it all. The book told him what he didn’t want to know. He still hasn’t talked to his <em> friend </em>about what he's been meaning to but maybe it's for the better because the book assured him they weren’t supposed to be close like that. Their constellations were so far away from each other and Jisung accepted it and moved on, because, if it’s written in the sky, then it must mean something.</p><p>Or at least that is what he’s trying to do when the train goes by his house and Jisung closes his eyes and lets everything go as the air leaves his lungs. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
It’s 2014 and Jisung is twelve, and his mom is getting tired of him changing his mind. The window has started to seem small for him and it’s even smaller today, because he has company. His palms are all sweaty between his legs, Jisung tries to make an excuse for it and says that he’s cold and his friend offers to lend Jisung his hoodie. <em> It’s so dumb </em>, Jisung thinks, his friend is smaller than him and it would never fit, so he declines the offer. </p><p>The cold air messes with his hair and his friend lets out a small giggle. <em> It’s so dumb, </em> Jisung thinks, it’s just a giggle, and he tries to ignore how it makes him feel. </p><p>Jisung tells his friend about the train. He tells his friend about how they both need to close their eyes and take a deep breath as it comes closer, and he tells his friend about how the floor will move beneath them but the sky will stay still, and his friend smiles while listening to Jisung’s words. He always smiles when Jisung is talking.</p><p>And Jisung can hear the first signal of the train coming closer so he points in the right direction for his friend to see, and he asks his friend to close his eyes and they both do, and his friend holds his hand as the train goes by and Jisung’s lungs get filled with fresh air and he’s holding a boy’s hand and his palms are all sweaty but he doesn’t care. </p><p>With his eyes still closed, Jisung tries to picture what they look like, he wants to be able to draw it in his diary later. Him, in his yellow hoodie, and his friend, <em> yes, friend, </em>in his deep blue one, holding hands, under a sky that isn’t favorable to them. </p><p>“I can see you tonight,” Renjun says, bringing Jisung back to reality. </p><p>Jisung is confused and Renjun laughs at his expression. But they are still holding hands, Jisung recalls, their fingers are still entangled in each other’s, and he tries to act like it’s nothing, like it’s not making his heart race. </p><p>“Didn’t you read my book?” Renjun asks, but continues as Jisung’s expression doesn’t change. “The Aquarius constellation, that’s yours, isn’t it?” </p><p>Renjun knows his birthday, he knows Jisung is an aquarius, he had searched for it. Jisung palms start sweating again, maybe they never stopped. </p><p>“It’s supposed to be here, in the Northern Hemisphere, during the fall, you know?”</p><p>Jisung knows, he knows it all, he knows how Renjun’s isn’t even in the same hemisphere as his, he knows how far apart they are from each other, he knows it all, but he plays dumb. After all, he’s only twelve but he now likes yellow. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
And after many years it’s 2019 and Jisung is seventeen, and he has to figure out what he wants to do with his life. He is still sitting on that stupid window too many years later, and now it’s so small his feet almost reach the ground. </p><p>Jisung is seventeen and, from over the corner of the balcony, he sees his friend walk the last few meters and jump over the front gate. Renjun doesn’t need to do that, his friend has a key but he’s small and he likes going over things so he jumps the fence and Jisung isn’t sure if his friend can see him, but he smiles at him from the window anyway. <em> Their </em>window now. </p><p>Renjun takes the stairs to the second floor and arrives almost empty-handed, but he pulls a pen out of the front pocket of his hoodie before jumping and sitting by Jisung’s side. </p><p>“You brought me a pen?” Jisung is confused, he doesn’t remember lending him a pen. </p><p>“I did,” Renjun closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and Jisung rolls his eyes because he knows Renjun is doing it <em> for the aesthetics of it all </em>, “you know how many years ago you stole my book? That book about stars I got angry about because you didn’t ask for it.”</p><p>Jisung remembers, he remembers it all. </p><p>“I stole this pen from you that day, but you never noticed. I guess I wasn’t that good at bothering you back then.” </p><p>“Only back then.” </p><p>And Jisung holds the pen close to himself, as if he was holding all the memories they both have made together over the past seven years. </p><p>“You’re going away at the end of the summer after all, huh?” Renjun sounds hurt, and his hand holding softly <b>to </b>Jisung’s leg proves it. </p><p>They don’t want to part ways, but Jisung has to do it. He has to go away and move across the world and they will have to deal with it as they always did. </p><p>“I do,” Jisung answers as they get a glance of the train coming. </p><p>Renjun holds Jisung’s hand now and he silently mouths <em> once again </em> to the younger. Once again they’re there together, once again they’ll get through this. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
And now it’s 2020 and Jisung is eighteen and he’s back from his semester abroad and he’s once again sitting on that window frame, legs too long now they reach the floor of the balcony. </p><p>And he looks at Renjun’s house a few blocks away. The night is dark but he can still recognize the small yellow light Renjun’s dad added to their roof a few years back. He looks at Renjun’s house and he wishes Renjun was there, but he isn’t. So Jisung resorts to their memories instead. Because he remembers, he remembers it all. </p><p>Jisung remembers when he finally got the courage to come out to Renjun, yellow hoodie still on but the night hadn’t arrived yet. He remembers how Renjun held his hand, how he told him everything was going to be fine and wiped Jisung’s tears with the paws of his hoodie. </p><p>Jisung remembers how Renjun explained how there was no correlation between them and their stars, that it didn’t matter that Jisung’s were on the north and his were on the south. “We are still here, together,” Renjun told him, holding Jisung’s hand once again. </p><p>Jisung remembers how he attended Renjun’s mom’s birthday party at fifteen, and how everyone in the family thought they were dating. And Renjun never corrected them, he just held Jisung’s hand under the dinner table every time an old aunty made them awkward questions. They thought it was easier that way, than answering even more questions. </p><p>Jisung remembers how they held each other every night when Renjun was having a bad time dealing with life, how they spent an entire week together and Jisung had to learn how to make Renjun’s favorite soup because his mom wasn’t around anymore to make it. Jisung remembers how they went through hell and back together, always together. </p><p>Jisung remembers how Renjun cried when the younger was saying goodbye at the airport, and how that time it was Jisung who wiped Renjun’s tears with his sweater paw. They were even then, Jisung knew it, he had been counting how many tears they had wiped off each other’s faces, and now they were even and he could leave in peace, only hoping there wouldn’t be any to wipe while he was away.</p><p>And Jisung remembers how, three months after the start of the school year, he had finally been able to get a look at Renjun’s constellation, and how it was as small as Renjun was on his arms. It was funny, he thought, how the stars didn’t mean anything but at the same time represented them so well. He sent Renjun a text about it that night, Renjun told him he had found a boyfriend. </p><p> </p><p>And that’s why Renjun isn’t there, on the balcony, sitting next to Jisung, eyes closed breathing in as the train goes by. Jisung has to do it by himself tonight, and even though it took him a while to get there, he’s glad he is. He’s happy and his phone vibrates inside his pocket.</p><p><em>Are you ready?, </em> Renjun says when Jisung picks up, no need of saying anything else. Jisung closes his eyes, the cold air messes with his hair once again and he breathes in. He fills his lungs until there’s no space for anything else, and he listens to the train go by as he breathes out. The floor underneath him shakes, it seems like a small earthquake made just for him, for him and Renjun on the other side of the line, just for them. <em> I love you, </em> Renjun says, <em> I’m glad you’re here. </em></p><p> </p><p>They held each other for the last time at the airport, but it feels like they’ve been doing it forever now, even that night while they were miles apart. And Jisung still remembers. </p><p>He remembers it all. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/_renjaune_">twt</a>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://curiouscat.me/_renjaune_">cc</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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